Hair cut
by Hanachu
Summary: Fluff is soft! A cute ONESHOT! where one day Kid cannot shake off the feeling that there is something brazenly symmetrical about Crona. Death the Kid x Crona.


I woke up that day as I always did; my thickly lashed yellow orbs opening in unison as the sun began to chuckle darkly sleep outside, the thin blazing lines carving through the gold retracted as I shut both of my eyes to cringe against the light. In one smooth motion I pulled myself up from where I slept on my back with my arms pinned by my sides and swung both legs in harmony, each toe touched the cool, thick carpet simultaneously. For this reason alone, I thought it was going to be a good day.

I walked to the bathroom, and moaned as I happened to glance downwards. Damn puberty. My morning erection proudly stood in all its glory, tilting to the left as it strained the material of my sleeping shorts. Irked, I stuffed my pale spider-like hands down them to reposition it and then picked up my black toothbrush to clean my teeth.

Because I was slightly unnerved how my hormones thrust me into a state of unsymmetry every morning or sometimes at the most entirely random times, such as the rare moments when my mind wandered in class or Tsubaki leant over me to ask something quietly and her perky, large breast brushed against my jacket; I chose not to risk my already wavering mood by using striped toothpaste. I grabbed the second, plain white tube Liz had picked up when she got annoyed by how we were often close to late because I had to align the colourful stripes of the toothpaste exactly, though despite my absolute need for symmetry in my mouth strict regime dictated I not break the rhyming pattern of my week by tardiness. A Shinigami would never be late, and I would never seek to upset my Father.

After spitting down the plug hole of the sink and wiping my foamy mouth clean as I savoured the lingering mint I brushed my bangs into eight separate chunks that fell into my eyes as they did every day, then two at the nape of my neck. Then I washed my face and hands, trying to ignore the disgusting ever reminder of my one hideous mar and disfigurement of the three unspeakable white stripes in my hair I had tried endless times to dye or tint to cover at least one of them. I sighed, and went to change. Today, a pressed white shirt with a froth of lace at the throat and wrist, and my favoured Shinigami mask brooch pinned flawlessly between my collarbones in the hollow of my throat. I heard Liz begin to wake up in the next room and rouse her lazier younger sister, and pulled on my black trousers, attaching a white brace either side which fell to dangle against my knee on either side. I adjusted them to make sure each was the same length.

I briskly walked the dark, opulent hallways and corridors through to the cool marble lobby checking each simplistic, modernised art piece and tasteful sculptures depicting my Father's mask was perfectly in its allocated place. Sometimes Patty would move a photo frame a few centimetres askew if I irritated her. After wasting a few more minutes frisking and straightening the lapels of my twin weapons as they emerged yawning and rubbing sleep blearily from their shared room in each other's arms as they pulled their matching shoes on. They wore the identical pairs of jeans and red fitted sweaters I had laid out for them last night; I regretted the decision now as the size difference between Liz and Patty's breasts was more obvious beneath the tight hugging crimson material.

But, we had to be leaving. We walked outside into the maniacally laughing sunshine, and I summoned my flight-capable skateboard Beelzebub, so that I wouldn't be late "What about us, Kid?"

I sent them a smooth smile over my shoulder "I bought you both an alarm clock each for a reason, girls"

"You're a real hard ass, you know" Liz rapped me on the shoulder as she brushed sweat from her brow, the lazier of the two sisters as Patty bounded over with her seemingly unexpendable energy.

"We walked in the sand!" she exclaimed, and had it not been for fear of the indecency of a red hand print on only one side of my cheek, I would have wearily rested my head in my hands.

Maka's perfectly aligned pigtails caught my attention, before she turned to expose the cowering form that had been hiding in her shadow. Usually, I gave little attention towards the Snake-Witches child save for in acceptance into the social group when needs must and my initial surprise of the Black Blood; but today my captivation was riveted.

Though I had secretly treasured the unison of the unique blend of lavender, cherry blush and spirit grey, I was usually unnerved by Crona's choppy haircut and the disgusting layers of the fringe that both fell into the elbows and in some strands the nose, even the chin. The rest was usually in loose, untamed curls like a handful of crushed pastel roses.

"Hey, Crona. You got a hair cut!" Patty squealed with her usual enthusiasm as she began jumping, and I'm pinioned there without a single thought as I saw how smooth and angular the perfectly even contours of Crona's face had become beneath the glossy new cap of a full, neatly combed and trimmed marshmallow fringe and the rest chopped into a faultless soft hued bob to just under the ears.

I took a languid, shaky step over with my hand outstretched as though through water, it was heavy and my vision blurred, chest constricting as I walked over to Crona, taking in the beautiful death onyx eyes, two chips of dark stone taken from the deepest places of night, embedded in cream, the three buttons on each sleeve cuff. My eyes were solely fixated on the long, swan like when I noticed...oh god.

I fall to the floor, shaking and twitching as the sudden burst of love blooming inside my chest viciously burns as it crushes within the destroyed weight of its flaming self, vanishing as inexplicably as it flourished. Liz runs to my side, unsure if this is a provoked outburst or something is genuinely wrong with me. Her former theory was proven as I curled my fist, crushing dirt into finer power beneath my knuckles as I struck immaturely out at the floor, before finding sanctity in darkness as I simultaneously rose both hands to my eyes, shielding me in perfect darkness and away from the sight of the five buttons on Crona's collar.

I was unable to stop the primal, animalistic like scream to release my fury "WHY! OF ALL THE UNGODLY ASYMMETRICAL DISASTERS WHY THIS ABOMINATION SO TWISTED AND PERVERSE IN IT'S SEVERITY!..." broke off into tears, running, dusting off my trousers to clean them as I put as much space between myself and them as I could. I wiped my nose on each sleeve so there wasn't a stain on either, and listened only to the pounding of my heart.


End file.
